


Silver-Hearted

by Ice_Eagle



Category: Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Eagle/pseuds/Ice_Eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leah is mostly known as the Marrok's mate and cruel to her pack. What people don't know is her side of the story...and why she gave up everything. For him. The Marrok. Sometimes it's better to be hated by all than just by one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my works from FF.net. I'll gradually be moving things from there to here and updating on both sets. The first chapter needs to be rewritten, but it gets better. :)
> 
> This was originally published in 2009.

(Marie's POV)

**Hurtshurtshurtswheresprettywolfprotectoralphawhereisshehurtshurtshurtsdon'tletthemtakeherawayhurtshurtshurts--**

"SHUT UP YOU DAMN WOLF!" My keening cut off abruptly and I cringed for the blow that slammed me against the side of my silver/iron metal cage. My slowly healing wounds burned even more and I barely suppressed the urge to howl. Where was ...Leah? Where'd she go? She was one of the newest ones, and the only one that tried to help me.

Darkdarkdarkwheresprettywolfgottafindhergottafindherhelpherhelpme

A soft whuff echoed through the dark basement. Through the darkness, I could just barely see her beside me in another cage. Being careful not to yelp in glee, I stood carefully and wagged my tail at Leah. Though it must've been agony for her, she pressed her muzzle through the bars and touched my nose, licking the tip. With that reassurance, we settled nearby each other (separated by the bars) and kept an eye out for our captors.

I had been here for a nameless time...once you're here in the dark for too long, you lose track of the days. Once I Turned at the first full moon, my family dumped me into the local pack's care, who then lost me on a bet to one of the packs controlled by The Outfit in Chicago. I had been here ever since. Leah was brought in only a few days ago and looked even worse than I, which is a feat in and of itself. Whatever she was, she was a dominant by her stature, and tried to protect the younger wolves here. In this case, me. The results are the long cuts and obvious swellings all over her body. There were more of us, but they took one of us away day by day, and we didn't dare Change. We didn't see them again.

Leah and I were the only ones left.

They would come for one of us soon. I'm still in the dark as to why they kept me alive for so long.

**Scaredscaredscareddon'tknowwhattodogonnadiegonnadiethey'regonnakillherandmebothmyfaultherfaultourfaultsoconfusedsoscaredgonnadie**

I knew why Leah was here. She was the Marrok's mate--or so I heard from the men who hauled her down--and was quite a catch. They trapped her while she was apparently on a shopping spree in Chicago. Her personality, from what I understood, was most repellent and cruel, and they were sure that no one would miss her.

I thought differently. She's the Marrok's mate and wife, for God's sake. How stupid were they? Her personality may suck, but what she had done to help me raised her in my eyes.

Just as one of the men came down again (they never spoke unless we made a vocal noise) we heard a CRASH from above, and both of us muzzily raised our heads. The blood loss was getting to both of us, and unless whoever was raising hell up there was an ally, we were both going to die very soon from our injuries. I prayed to heaven that it was one of Leah's pack.

Evidently, it was. Leah picked herself up and yipped at me to do the same. I had a harder time, as my shoulder was broken somewhere and it was hard to stand properly. As the nameless man opened both our doors, the door to upstairs banged open and our captor went down in less then a second and both he and the wolf were rolling on the floor. Leah then bolted out of her cage and helped me out of mine, then we backed ourselves into a corner. Though Leah looked like she was crazed for a fight, we both knew better than to try to join.

A blond, short-ish man came down the stairs, a dark Middle-Eastern man behind him.

"Charles," the blond man said, "finish it. I would have Leah do it, but she looks preoccupied and too injured."

I sat down on the ground and looked over Leah's body as they both approached. 'The blond must be Bran, Leah's mate. Thank God.'

Both Bran and the dark man approached slowly and cautiously, but Leah snarled viciously at them. One look at her eyes told us that she was very close to losing it completely. I was about the same, actually. Bran looked slightly taken aback at her growl.

"Leah, it's Bran, your mate. We're here to help you and your-," he looked over her at me and changed his word, "-our packmate. We'll see to you and her, don't worry."

Her ears slowly rose and her posture began to relax. Both of us had been on the edge for so long that we didn't recognize those who was trustworthy at this point. Bran kept looking at me, but I didn't lower my eyes as required. His eyes had turned wolf when he first saw Leah, but at this point, I was too exhausted to care and just blinked at him. I slowly crept up to Leah's shoulder and licked her jaw. Peering at me, she returned the gesture and nosed me forward towards the dark man.

Keeping my head down, I looked back at Leah, who nodded her head at me to keep going. All I remembered after that was a "Ssshhhh, querida" and a swooping blackness took me far away.

(Leah's POV)

By the saints and God almighty, I hurt in places I didn't even know I could hurt. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. At least Marie was safe, thank heaven.

This registered in my head in about three seconds and I turned my eyes back towards Bran, my mate. I was very close to unleashing my wolf, and my control was at the moment similar to a fraying thread. I was surprised that he had come for me, actually. I thought he'd leave me for dead. He wouldn't care. Bran would just find someone else like me and claim them as his mate. My death would be an, "unfortunate accident", but no one would actually notice.

I was easily replaced, so I was shocked that he was here at all.

Tired, I sat down and my head began to droop, but my ears pricked up at Bran's voice.

"Leah," his voice was gentle, "You should Change. It'll help with your wounds."

My snort conveyed my impression with that idea. Hello? Clothes? Woman covered in blood walking out of a house? Hell freaking no. And I felt safer in wolf form, anyway. I just needed some food. Maybe I could eat my and Marie's former captor. He smelled good. That rancid meat they fed Marie and I tasted awful.

**Soverytiredwhattododon'twannaChangenotsafenotsafeBranminesodisappointedallmyfaultBranheremaybesafe?Mineminemine**

"Leah?"

I very slowly moved towards my mate and he helped close the distance by approaching me. With a tired whine, I butted his hand and just blinked up at him. The pain was making it hard to think.

"Leah? Please?"

That was what undid me. When he actually said 'please' I got a guilt trip and couldn't refuse.

Though I had been practicing before I went on that damned shopping trip, the Change was only a little less painful, but much smoother. I came out of it sitting on my butt on the cold concrete. In an instant Bran picked me up and nuzzled my neck; I guess his wolf needed serious reassurance. Sighing, I did the same and relaxed, then turned to Asil. The Moor had Marie cradled carefully in his arms and I sighed again. Then, no surprise to anyone, I began to cry quietly. I hurt like there was no tomorrow.

"Why'd you come?" I murmured and Bran stiffened slightly.

"You're my mate, Leah. Of course I'd come."

I smiled softly as I began to relax, "What a generic answer, Bran."

I don't remember passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Marie's POV--One week later** _

When I woke up, I had absolutely no idea as to where I was, or how I got there.

Or who the warm body curled up around me was.

Tensing, I inhaled his scent and recognized him as the man who picked me up down in that cellar. Then I got fur in my nose. With a snort, I picked up my head and looked around. The bedroom I was in was large, with a (thankfully) blue carpeted floor. I didn't relish falling on wood. A breeze ruffled my fur and I turned my head to see that it was daylight, around midday, and with all the windows and doors that led to the bathroom and out into the hallway open. The furniture in the room was of very dark cherrywood, with antique-looking handles from at least a century or two ago.

Pain flashed through my shoulders as I tried to move and--if I could have--I would have winced. But as a wolf, that wasn't exactly possible. Footsteps echoed on the stairway and an unfamiliar-but-familiar scent accompanied them. A growl sounded next to me and I looked to see that my fellow wolf was awake.

"Easy, Asil, I only brought lunch," Leah's mate bumped the door aside with his hip and set the tray on the floor, "While it might be nice to have lunch in bed, Marie, I think Asil wouldn't like it if you made a mess on his blankets. Can you get up?"

I very slowly--and very carefully--dragged myself into a sitting position, then looked mournfully down at the long distance to the ground. With the wolf equivalent of a sigh, I braced myself and jumped to the floor. The impact jarred my bones a little and a small whine crept out of my muzzle. I limped slowly over to the meat and settled in to eat. The raw beef and milk satisfied my wolf's craze for food/blood/both and I blinked at the Alpha.

"I'm Bran, the Marrok," Bran sat cross-legged on the ground, and I lowered my head automatically, "And you are Marie, of course. The wolf that helped you out of that place is Asil. You may have heard of him as the Moor."

With a snort of surprise, I turned back towards Asil and cocked my head. Eh. I thought Asil sounded familiar. His head hung a little over the edge of the bed and I deliberately nuzzled his face. He licked mine in return and I rotated myself so that I faced the Marrok once again. All he did was just raise an eyebrow.

"Well," he said finally, "Would you like to go see Leah?"

Just as I was about to bark my consent, Bran added warningly, "You'll have to Change first. Though my people here know of our kind, we do not display it publicly. You can borrow some of Asil's comfier clothes, if he doesn't mind."

With a sigh, I looked pointedly at Asil and at the Marrok, then toward the door. Catching my hint, Bran chuckled, "Of course. You're understandably not used to our ways just yet. Come, Asil. Let her change in peace. But before I go," He pointed to the dresser and the closed door, "Asil should have something for you to wear in either his closet or his dresser. Don't be too long. I'll be right outside if you need me."

Once the hallway door had safely shut behind the two of them, I began to focus on the Change.

Which was

in.

credibly.

painful.

Once I finished, I just rested my head in my hands for a few minutes, then felt well enough to stand up the whole way. Changing, thankfully--even though it hurts--helps the healing of previous wounds speed up. Searching through the Moor's drawers, I pulled out a pair of socks, a pair of black track pants, and a long sleeved crew neck gray shirt. I jumped and hid behind the door when it suddenly opened.

Bran's hand popped inside, "I almost forgot. Marie, Leah also sent some underwear for you to wear until we get you some new things. She figured you wouldn't be comfortable in Asil's boxers."

With a quiet "thank you" I took the items out of his hand and the Marrok shut the door again. Bracing myself, I slid into the very large bathroom and shut the door. I didn't recognize the face that looked back at me; or at least, not much. Or the body. Barely.

Fine silver lines traced my neck and the top of my collar bone before trailing off down my back. Yellowing and fading bruises were all along my rib cage, and I had several more contusions along my arms and around my legs. That was probably from when I kept being slammed into the bars. My fur had taken most of the hit, but the bruises would be painful for a while. The scars I guessed were from me being flayed with a silver whip. Or knife.

I'm tall (roughly 5 '9') and fairly angular. With curly brown hair and eyes, my face was unremarkable, and useful for when I wanted to slip away from people unnoticed. I grimaced at the state of my hair and face; I was very grimy. I pawed through Asil's bathroom drawers and came across a wide-toothed comb. I also saw a bottle of (presumably the Moor's) shampoo in the shower. Taking a peek at the atom clock on the wall, I figured I could scrub off as much as I could in ten minutes, then get dressed.

With that plan, I turned the shower on to hot, then jumped in as soon as steam began to rise above the shower curtain.

About ten minutes later, I leaped out of the shower and dried off with one of the fluffy blue towels hanging on a rack, then hurriedly got dressed. The underwear and bra were thankfully plain; there were no other "decorative" attachments and by some miracle of God actually fit me. The bra (I guessed was a B) I had to secure on the second-tightest hooks. I shimmied into the other clothes and combed my hair out. I was getting a little jittery at this point, but I and my wolf settled down when I inhaled the Moor's scent. I knew I would be safe with him.

Once I finished, I opened the bathroom door cautiously. There was no one in the bedroom except for me. Then I heard a knock from the door leading to the hallway.

"Marie, could you open the door? Bran said you got in the shower and you might be a while. I can hear you moving around, though. Let me in."

It was Leah.

_**Leah's POV--Two days earlier before Marie wakes up** _

Unlike Marie, I woke up almost completely healed. Though I was much more severely injured than her, I was able to heal more quickly because I was part of a pack and I was the Marrok's wife. Because of my mating with Bran, I was able to draw on strength from every pack in North America.

Pack magic. What a wonderful thing.

I was quite muzzy at first. All I registered was that I was warm, in Bran's room, and that I was alone.

I sat up slowly and carefully, not knowing how weak or sore I was. Feeling a little lightheaded, I rested for a minute before throwing back the covers. After making sure that no one else was in the house, save the wolf (I believe Anna, damn) downstairs, I grabbed some clothes from Bran's spare drawer in his dresser and jumped in the shower. I scrubbed off mercilessly and ignored the scabbed over scrapes and slices all over my back and stomach. They'd heal without scarring, hopefully.

I toweled off in the bathroom and changed, then really looked at myself in the mirror.

I almost wished I hadn't.

My face was gaunt and thin, and even with the sleep I had gotten I still looked like death warmed over. A large contusion was on my right cheekbone and a thin scar ran up the left side of my temple and tapered off along my hairline above my forehead. Untangling my hair was a royal pain in the butt, but I managed to unknot it and put it into two braids. With a few grunts, I managed to get my clothes on, which consisted of grey sweatpants, a dark blue UnderArmour long-sleeved shirt, and a white T-shirt that said, "The only that keeps me from becoming a serial killer is my distaste for manual labor"(for some odd reason, Bran had a cow when he saw this shirt. The man doesn't understand my type of humor). I then pulled on triple-knit grey socks and matching grey sneakers and trooped down the stairs.

"Leah? Want me to make you anything?" Anna, or Mr. Tall, Dark, and Depressing's wife, looked uncertain about her offer.

I raised an eyebrow, "You can cook?"

"Well, Charles brought over some things...I figured I could warm them up...You've got to be starving."

Now that she mentioned it, I was feeling slightly peckish.

Scratch that, I was ravenous.

"Go ahead," I said crankily as I sat down, "What, Bran couldn't even be bothered to stay and wait for me to wake up? He sent you instead?"

"Bran had been staying with you the first few days you were unconscious. He finally went to go hunt with his sons yesterday; he was too close to--" Anna broke off as the timer on the microwave rang. Fetching the sausage and bacon out of it, she served me at least two-thirds of the few and kept the remaining third for herself. The next thing she popped in the microwave were pancakes.

"What? Unleashing himself? I know what he is, Anna Cornick, even more than what you think you know. Please," I said with a snort, "Don't spare me. I've had enough of that to last at least your original lifetime and mine."

Anna frowned, "Then why don't you make things easier between the two of you?"

"Why do you have to ask such personal questions? It isn't for you to know unless you hear from Bran or his children, " I finished off the last bacon with a sigh of satisfaction and finished drinking the last of my milk, "Actually, don't even bother asking them. They don't know the whole story either. And I'm not going to tell you. Even my husband doesn't really know, though he might guess."

"You really shouldn't keep things inside--"

"--and I suppose you would know, wouldn't you, Anna?" I asked silkily, "Please, Doctor, do tell me more of your advice, I beg you. Please."

Anna got up to serve the pancakes and brought over the syrup as well. With a clunk, she set the syrup down on the table between us. I must've hit a nerve.

"Why do you act like this with us? Why were you so protective of Marie?" At my blank look, Anna said dryly, "Asil told me you nearly killed yourself protecting her. She's staying at his place, by the way."

"Marie...why do you want to know? This is all none of your business." I took another bite of my third pancake.

"It is my business because the Marrok's wife nearly died when she went shopping in Chicago. Though the pack--" here she faltered and I said dryly, "I know how the pack feels about me, Omega. In fact, I know how most of the wolves in America feel about me. Continue."

"The whole pack structure would've splintered. Bran might have lost it. You know as well as I do what would've happened. So why did you go to such lengths to protect her when you were such in a fragile position yourself?"

"Didn't I say I wasn't going to tell you?"

Anna frowned, "Yeah, but--"

I broke in sharply, "So I'm not going to tell you. Don't ask again. Please, "I added belatedly. Damn Omegas, "It isn't something for you to know. Don't pretend you care, anyway, and don't you dare pity me."

"Why would I pity you when you brought this all on yourself?"

I shook my head, "You don't understand, and you're meddling in dangerous places. If you did know, you'd pity me. That I cannot afford. Please go."

"But--"

"I promise I won't leave the house until Marie wakes up. Send someone to let me know, and I hope to every god it's not you. I've had enough of you for a while."

"Are--"

"Anna. Go."

That Omega went.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Leah's POV** _

After Anna had left, I bowed my head with a sigh and cleared the dishes that were still on the table. Being the Marrok's wife was harder than anyone could imagine. Although I was grateful for the wealth and smug about the amount of power I had over all the wolves on the continent (with, of course, obvious exceptions, like Omegas and coyotes), the emotional consequences at times were almost too much.

Still brooding, I finished cleaning the dishes and moved toward the piano in the den. While Bran could sing and Samuel played the violin, my passion in music was playing the piano. The ivory and obsidian keys beguiled me to play them when I was very young; around six years old. I won my first competition three months after my seventh birthday. I had my first recital when I was six and a half.

My first competition was about two hundred-odd years ago.

I pushed up the piano cover (I thanked God I was able to convince Bran to buy me a Steinway), then sat down on the bench and began to play mindlessly, not opening (or honestly, seeing) the music books. As my fingers drifted over the different keys, my mind wandered.

Why had I made nice with Marie?

Part of that question was easy to answer. Naturally, I was the dominant (though by no means was Marie a sub) in the situation. We were the only two left in that awful basement/dungeon thing, and as part of my dominant nature I couldn't let her suffer. It went against the grain to not help her. Though I was less dominant than Samuel and Charles (and probably Adam), that still left me ranking pretty far up the wolf hierarchy, even if I hadn't married Bran.

But then, if I hadn't married Bran, I probably wouldn't have gotten into this whole mess.

Shaking my head as I continued to play, I began to think of the second part of the question that was harder to address.

The deeper reason why I helped her.

I wasn't exactly sure. No wolf should have to endure that kind of torture, of course, but-

I sighed.

Being the Marrok's mate is exhausting-emotionally, if not physically.

I knew that Bran loved his previous mate with all his heart. I knew that she was a wonderful woman and that her sons (even if one was fathered by someone else) cared for her extremely. I knew that Bran's pack (who were old enough) also cared for her.

I also knew that everyone in the benighted country, practically, thought of me as an interloper.

But I had no choice; I had to make them hate me. I knew exactly why Bran lost control-when the love, along with the mating bond, was lost when Blue Jay Woman died, his already precarious control on the Beast broke.

I shook my head as I let up my pounding on the keys and began to play more gently.

I've known of Bran for a very long time; I was part of one of the northern packs at the time his mate died, and so we heard the news very quickly. I was second to the Alpha; his name was Jordan. Well, not heard. We certainly felt it; Bran's killing rage spread to only the packs in the closest proximity.

I had hoped to never feel it again.

When Bran sent word that he was coming to visit, it threw my pack into a frenzy of preparations. When he did arrive, my power hungry and selfish self thought of only capturing him as my mate, and I succeeded.

The rest of me, when I first met Bran, knew what he needed, and not necessarily why, at least at the beginning.

I'm not really psychic, but I do have an unnatural hunch as to what people needed most to heal them and how it could be given. Not surprisingly, I became a selfish and stupid (seeming) bitch that only wanted shiny things and power. Friends in my original pack turned away from me and Bran, as I predicted, married me and we mated.

I had what I wanted and I gave him what he needed, but I lost everything I originally cared for in the process. Except my music.

My head bowed as I thought of how my pack began their dislike of me and how they spread word to the rest of the surrounding packs that I was not to be-trusted. Or respected. Only feared.

Though this was advantageous to me, since I couldn't really help Bran unless the facade was spread to everyone, it still hurt. I couldn't have a friend amongst the packs in North America, including my own. I had to look as if I opposed him in all things, for all reasons, at all times. I had to seem stupid and not have any kind of foresight. If the wolves of North America liked me, it would become harder and harder for Bran to dislike me and keep himself detached-and that was something no one sane could afford.

If he became attached to me, and I died (like I nearly did just a few days ago), he'd lose control again. The rage that was a part of him would spread, and wolf would turn against wolf.

I gave Bran what he wanted: a mating bond without any affection, any caring. My wolf wasn't alone, neither was his, and thus the Beast was soothed by the presence of the mate magic.

I accomplished my goal so thoroughly that even Bran hadn't guessed.

So maybe I needed Marie as a friend; my only confidant. I needed someone who, even if I couldn't tell them everything, could be my friend. I needed someone I could let down the barriers with but would be dominant enough to not have to answer any demands by the other wolves. Likewise, she had to be subordinate to me as part of the pack (which be accomplished at the next full moon) and when I told her she couldn't know, she would obey that command.

So, I thought with a sigh, at least that question was answered.

Now the next question: What did I feel for Bran?

As I began to play, 'I love to See the Temple' by Paul Cardall, my mind wandered.

I simply did not know-not really. Some would think I had loved him to do what I had done for him-which was partially true. I did love him, but I did hate-well, hate is too strong a word; perhaps dislike-him as well. I did hate what I had to do for him and sometimes I regretted the choice I had made.

The problem was that I could not stand by and see Bran go and mate with someone else-give her himself, along with all that power and wealth and privileges. I couldn't bear someone else being so genuinely selfish and greedy and so uncaring for others helping Bran lead the Marrok's pack. At least my greed was partially fake.

I hated that Bran kept pack business from me; I was part of the pack, and even if I was a selfish-seeming bitch, I did have to know what was going on.

I smirked to myself as I recalled what happened when he finally told me about Mercedes and Tim. Of course, I lost my temper and of course, he nearly lost his temper, and he had tried (supposedly) to get me to understand just what Tim had done, and of course, I pretended I really didn't give a damn, only just wondering why he wasn't with me, as usual.

Mercedes and I have a complicated relationship, my attempts to have her killed notwithstanding.

He pounced on me and we stayed in bed for the next day or so. The sex, I thought smugly, is great. As usual. Although Bran's heart was partially not in it, it still was fabulous.

Ah, mating bonds. What wonderful stuff.

Just as I thought this, I heard the front door open and shut and I immediately stopped my playing. I looked up and started when I saw Samuel in the doorway. Resuming my mask of Bitchy Leah, I asked haughtily, "Is there something you needed?"

Samuel smiled slightly, "Three things. One, Marie is going to be fine; she's just sleeping now. Two, father will be back in another couple of hours and three, I didn't mean to interrupt your playing. Oh, and I'm taking over for Anna, since you apparently scared her off."

I winced and snapped, "Never mind. I can't do it now, anyway. Not with you here."

"Why?"

I looked at him, "I'd prefer to keep some things to myself, thankyouverymuch."

I shifted my glance away from him and down to the piano. I gently stroked the keys, being sure not to press them down all the way, and moved to put the cover back over my beloved instrument.

"Are you Irish, Leah?" I shook my head and looked sharply at him, "No. Why?"

Samuel held up placating hands, "You seem to have a-similar passion for music-like father."

"And Charles and I" were the unspoken words. I rolled my eyes as he continued, "I heard you playing as I came up the driveway. You're very good."

I shrugged, "Thanks. Again, did you need anything?"

Bran's eldest just shook his head, "I just wonder about you, Leah."

"Well, the feeling's not mutual."

Samuel's eyes lightened a little and he continued, "I'd like to hear you play."

I raised my eyebrows, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to hear me play?"

"Because you're good, Leah. Certainly better than the man at our church. Besides, I didn't realize you were that good at anything."

I shrugged and ignored the veiled barb, "I grew up with it. When I was younger, before I turned, I was considered a prodigy," I waved a hand at one of the sofas that was in the room, "Well, go and sit down."

"You'll really play for me?"

I glared at him, "Well, it's not like I can shove you out of the house, now is it? You already barged in here, so I just have to get used to it, unfortunately."

"You're a very prickly woman."

I didn't dignify that with an answer and sat at on the piano bench again, "Is there anything you want to hear, Samuel Cornick?"

He waved a hand at me, "Whatever comes to mind."

"Be quiet, then."

"What?"

I looked away from him and down at my hands, "Fine. Please be quiet, Master Cornick. You'll distract me otherwise-even more than you've already annoyed me."

Samuel ignored the second half of my comment and just said, "Okay."

And so I began to play. I started with 'In the Mirror' by Yanni and moved on to 'Journey' by Jim Brickman and 'Think of Me' by Lorie Line. After that, I began to get lost in my thoughts and just played. My fingers moved over the piano and I didn't really pay attention to what else was going on around me. I closed my eyes and only listened and felt the music that was being cajoled out by my fingers.

But as all good times do, I felt my fingers tiring and before they stumbled on any keys, opened my eyes and finished the song I was playing with a grand finish. A satisfied smile flitted across my face before I replaced it with a serious expression and turned to Samuel.

"Did you know," Samuel said thoughtfully from his perch on the sofa, "That father tried to teach me the piano when I was very young?"

I frowned slightly at him, "Where is this going?"

"Just bear with me here. He wanted someone who could play the piano because he wanted someone to accompany him with his voice."

"You do that well enough with the fiddle."

He nodded acknowledgment, "I do-and I'm horrible at the piano, even to this day."

I cocked my head to the side, frown still showing on my face, "Am I supposed to apologize or something?"

For the first time in my life, Samuel actually chuckled in my presence. And not at my expense. I was stunned, "No, you're not. I was just thinking."

"What?" I stood from my place on the bench and pulled the cover over the Steinway. I moved out into the kitchen again and took a look at the time; 2:00 in the afternoon. I needed some lunch or something.

"You are not who you seem to be. I cannot imagine someone as-" he paused trying to think of a word and I chimed, "Bitchy? Selfish? Stupid?"

"Bitchy," Samuel decided, "Thanks. Anyway, I can't imagine someone as bitchy as you playing with such passion. You weren't born so-cruel, Leah Cornick, and I want to know why."

I turned from my scrounging around in the cupboards, "I am who I am, Samuel. I hope you're not going to start liking me now since you've seen me play."

"Like that."

I frowned quizzically and he clarified, " 'I am who I am, Samuel'. The old Leah would not have said that."

"Nearly dying puts things in perspective," I said dryly, "And I am who I am and who I must be is none of your concern. Please keep it to yourself."

"No," Samuel looked around the fridge, "I don't think I'll ever like you, Leah. But I do respect you."

I shrugged, "That's not important to me, Samuel. Are you staying for lunch or not?"

"Well, father wanted me to watch you until he got back, so I suppose," he stared at me penetratingly for a moment, "You know, I really do wonder why father married you."

I shook my head at him, "It's none of your business. Come on, let's get lunch ready."

He grinned at me, "Father says the same thing, practically, except that he's a lot better at misdirection than you are."

"Gee, thanks," I snarked, "That just made me so much better."

Better at misdirection? If only he knew. . .

"Leah?" I shook my head again, "Sorry, what? I hope it was important."

Samuel took a seat at the table, "Oh, yeah. Never mind. Now I definitely think I'll never like you, only respect you."

"I don't care. Fine with me."

And we began to eat.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Samuel's POV** _

I was mindful to keep my gaze upon Leah light and curious, but not admiring as the two of us ate lunch together in the kitchen. She was sitting at the bar while I leaned against the kitchen sink opposite her. Of course, Leah noticed that I was staring, but gave no other reaction besides tensing up slightly and chewing her food a little harder than necessary.

Something had happened to Leah during her captivity, and I was trying to figure out what it was.

I had heard Anna's and Leah's conversation as I walked up the driveway, and it got me thinking. Of course, none of my theories were definite, and I'd have to voice them with Charles later, when I had the time. But something about Father's mate seemed--off. Leah was quieter, and much more--tired. Not of the body, but of the soul. As if something was beaten out of her and replaced by acceptance and a reluctant wisdom.

As if Leah could ever be wise. But hey, I've been proven wrong before.

"What is it? You've been staring for the past five minutes and I would appreciate it if you would look at something else, unless you have something flattering to say. "

I just shook my head and looked at the painting behind her, above the TV. When Leah had relaxed again, I glanced occasionally unobtrusively out of the corner of my eye. Yes, I didn't like what I saw.

"Nearly dying puts things in perspective," Leah said dryly, "And I am who I am. Who I must be is none of your concern."

"I am who I am, Samuel."

Which reminded me. My eyes narrowed slightly as I examined Leah from a doctor's point of view. I didn't like what I saw.

Her skin was much too pale; hands shaking slightly, although Leah must have known that I would have noticed. I saw how she favored her left hand (three of her five fingers--and that includes her thumb--were broken) and part of her back (some of her lower muscles were torn) and worried at the scar on her face. I noticed how she winced a little whenever she shifted hands or moved her neck from side to side. She also had a mild (formerly very severe) concussion that was clearing up rapidly. Oh, yes, Leah looked like hell. Or death warmed over. I wasn't sure which. I saw the fatigue that she tried to hide, and noted how incredibly thin she was from malnourishment and the demands that her torturers made on her by having her constantly Change. When a wolf changes form, their metabolism skyrockets, and if they don't have enough nourishment in time, they, well, paradoxically take it from themselves and try to reuse it. It doesn't work, of course, but they try. I frankly was surprised that she hadn't eaten any of the men that had come near her. But maybe the silver had something to do with that. Of course, she also suffered from silver poisoning and had sweated it out the first day that she was unconscious. Her pulse was still about ten to twenty beats faster than what should be normal for a werewolf. And Leah was still recovering from dehydration.

"Doctor's orders," I said finally and Leah looked up, "Are for you to eat and sleep for the next week. And maybe see the wo--"

"--Marie--"

"--Marie," I amended, raising an eyebrow in her direction and she looked down again, "And maybe see Marie. I'm sure she'd do better with you near her after she wakes up. But no strenuous activities for at least a week. You lost too much of your body weight of fat and muscle and bone, and you'll be fragile for at least that long until you catch up. Moving on," I overrode her protest, "I left prescription sleeping pills on your nightstand if you have problems sleeping," I tactfully left out the idea of nightmares or pain, "And there are painkillers beside that to fell an elephant for a month or a werewolf for several hours if you need it. The painkillers are red, the sleeping aids white. Furthermore," I trained over her next sentence, "You will feel fatigued fairly constantly; for every few hours you are awake, you will become very sleepy. So I wouldn't advise having company over for any lengthy periods of time if they are not people you trust. And yes, Father will back me--"

"Yes, I most certainly will."

The first thought that went through my head was, "Damn. Why is Leah so scared of Da?." The second was, "Oh, shit." as Leah whirled and fell to the floor.

_**Leah's POV** _

I scooted as far as I could from the back door. Strong arms picked me up and forced my chin upward. I had my eyes shut and was hitting everywhere I could reach when Samuel's scent drifted toward my nose. Opening my eyes, I ignored the roaring in my ears as I staggered back against the wall and--

"There was nowhere I could run. Nowhere I could hide. When suddenly the voice crooned softly, "Now, bitch, will it be the knives or the whip today?"

_"LEAH! Leah, snap out of it--"_

_I ignored the hits to my face as I slid into the corner and whimpered, wishing I had the strength to Change, wishing that I could rip his throat out and spill his blood on the floor for all the ones that came before me. But I couldn't. I didn't have the strength to fight anymore._

_And my heart broke. My eyes turned red and the figure slunk towards me with a mad chuckle, brandishing the silver whip in his hand._

_I went mad._

_**"LEAH!"** _

I gasped as I suddenly fell back into myself, into real time, and cuddled by--

\--Sam? Yes. Samuel. Wheezing, I tried to wrench myself away from him, "Don't touch me don't touch me get off get off."

"Leah. Leah. It's okay. You're safe. Leah. Leah. It was just a flashback. Leah-Lee--"

At that pathetic nickname that the doctor just made up, I winced and finally came all the way back to myself, the panic and terror fading as suddenly as it came, "Good God. What is that?"

Samuel grinned sardonically, moving his head back and giving me some space, "What? Leah-Lee? Well, nothing else seemed to really work. If you like, I could call you Lee-lee like that chick in the godawful Twilight series."

I gasped and gently pushed his arms off of me, "You wouldn't dare," my head darted around the room, "I don't want to be called by my namesake. That would put the icing on the cake today."

"Bran went to yours and his room. He's staying away until you are--"Samuel paused, "recovered from your shock."

"That is a tactful way to put it," I said dryly as I got shakily to my feet, Samuel seconds behind, "And Samuel, as much as I hate to say it, thank you. But please, don't--"

Bran's son chuckled, "Please. Doctor-patient confidentiality, remember? I won't say a word. Now," here he hesitated, "Will you be alright by yourself? Do you need to stay somewhere else? What exactly happened when Da--"

I winced and shuddered slightly, "Nothing, really. He just surprised me, that's all. I can't take being snuck up on anymore. You were okay because we're at least on--"I winced again, "Tolerable terms."

Samuel raised his arms as he backed towards the front door, "I'm not getting into that. I have a feeling that that's for the two of you to sort out on your own."

"You asked," I smirked at him as he backed out the door, "And I will be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Get some sleep tonight if you can."

I rolled my eyes as I shut the door, knowing Samuel would hear me, "Yes, dad."

As soon as I heard his car pull out of the driveway and down the street, I turned back around and looked apprehensively at the staircase that led to the bedrooms in our house. The first immediate left was mine, across was Bran's and next to Bran's was our shared one when we weren't always pissed at each other. With a sigh, I gathered my courage and made it up the stairs.

I hesitated in front of the door to our shared bedroom, "Bran?"

No answer.

Bracing myself I gingerly opened the door and peeked inside and sighed when I saw a lupine form on the bed. Partly relieved and mostly concerned, I slipped inside and shut the door behind me quietly. Our shared room was a mix of emerald green and brown, with floor-to-ceiling length windows that led out to our own balcony that viewed our backyard. Quietly, I moved into our closet and I grabbed a pair of long, blue pj's made of soft satin. It was the most comfortable on my skin at the moment.

"Bran?"

A sigh resonated through the room as my mate turned his head toward me. What I saw there made me want to cry. But knowing that would make it all worse, I blinked them back, swallowed the lump in my throat, and moved onto the bed, pulling his head into my lap.

"Bran, it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry that I reacted that way when you came inside. But because of--" my voice hitched before I continued, "But because I was captured, I can't be snuck up on anymore. I'm sure you heard me talking with your son downstairs--"

Snort.

"--and I was hoping you'd understand," I sighed and stroked his ears, "Now, as much as I would love to Change, I'm too exhausted. And Sam pretty much forbade me from doing so for at least a week."

Not really a lie. It was implied when Sam told me what he wanted me to do.

"Bran?" My voice sounded strained to my own ears, "Can you at least say something? Or unblock the bond? Please?"

Bran whuffed and nuzzled my hand, before speaking softly inside my mind: I nearly lost you. And I scared you half to death. You'll have to forgive me. My wolf is pretty angry right now with myself.

"Well," I said softly as I slid down the pillows so his head was on my stomach, "You didn't know. Now, if I wanted to be ridiculously bitchy, I would say that you could have guessed. But I doubt you need that right now along with everything else."

:What did you mean when you said that my answer was generic that night when we found--: Bran's mind voice was tightly chained, containing the anger inside.

Wincing, I said softly, "Damn. I was really hoping I didn't say that. Shit."

:Leah:

I winced again and shifted my back a little, "Sorry. Back hurts. And what I meant was that I'm expendable, of course." My eyes began to droop and I looked at the clock on the wall. Six o'clock. Well past when I got up. Well, Samuel warned me I would be sleepy. What perfect timing.

:Leah, you are not expendable in any way. I--:

I yawned as I pulled Bran up close to my face, cuddling him like a would a teddy bear, "You're lying. Please stop. You and I both know that if I died you could have found a new mate just like that," I snapped my fingers, "And we can talk about this later. When I'm better. But I'm sleeping now. So goodnight."

:Leah, I--:

Bran shut up when I snarled at him, my eyes momentarily going light green. My lips curled and I pinched his side. With a mild snap to my face (he didn't actually connect) and a lick to my cheek, Bran got the hint and settled down, finally letting me sleep.

_**Bran's POV** _

As my mate slept, I looked down upon her face, noticing the bruises and scars from her ordeal. Thinking about it and her--episode in the den nearly made me lose control again. As that thought rose to the front of my mind, the phone downstairs rang. Sighing softly, I gently untangled myself from her arms, and pulled the covers back over her with my teeth. I jumped off the bed quietly (I was slightly surprised that she hadn't woken up) and trotted down the stairs. Pulling the phone off the hook with my teeth, I set it down on the ground and hit 'talk' with my paw.

"Father."

:Charles.:

"You're in wolf form?"

I sighed, :It's a long story. Now what have you found?:

My youngest cleared his throat, "Well, they're part of a terror gang that is loosely connected to the Mafia and the Beast in France, from what I know so far. They call themselves the Nameless. Don't ask me why, I don't know yet. But capturing wolves was a ruse to cover up their search for Leah. Originally, they were going to spread our existence throughout the public before you did, but once they got a hold on your mate they decided to go back to their original plan and cause an all-out war between Europe and the Americas."

I frowned as much as a wolf could, :You are still hunting them.: It wasn't a question.

Charles sighed, "Yes, da, but it will take some more manpower than what I have right now. And time. They're everywhere."

:Give me the full details and call me for any extra funds you need to clean this up. I want these 'Nameless' dead before they spread any further.:

"Yes, Da. How is---"

I huffed a little and began to pace, :I think--: I hesitated, :She'll be fine. But it will be a while before I know for sure.:

"Do you--," Charles hesitated, then coughed embarassedly, "Never mind. I have some work I need to tend to. If I may--"

As much as I wanted to know what he was going to ask, I knew pushing my youngest would not get anywhere, and perhaps make him even more obstinate, :Yes. Good night, son.:

"Good night, Da."

With my ears pinned back, I grabbed the cordless phone and placed it back into the receiver, then Changed and got into some comfortable sleep pants, staying shirtless. I opened mine and Leah's door and shut it quietly, but my mate stirred.

"Bran?" Leah said fuzzily, "Who was it?"

I hesitated, "Charles. Go back to sleep. I'm here now," I slid underneath the covers behind her, wrapping my arm securely around her waist, just under her breasts, and my legs twined with hers. With my other hand I stroked her hair until her breathing evened out, then fell asleep as well.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Leah's POV, 2 Days Later** _

"Marie woke up today. I need to see her."

"Leah, this isn't-"

I whirled and managed to sidestep Samuel, although my temper was shortening by the minute and it further frayed knowing the fact that I would've run straight into him if he hadn't decided to get out of the way, "I do not care that this isn't a good time, if I don't see her now or in the next ten minutes I'll-"

"You'll what," Samuel snapped back at me, "somehow fight Asil in his own house to see Marie without an escort? I will be damned if that'll happen. The Moor is centuries older than you, Leah."

I snarled and my eyes lightened, "Why would he try to keep me from her? He was one of the ones that picked her and I up. I was the only one that even tried to protect her in that Godforsaken place, Samuel. If it weren't for me, she'd have died weeks before that Moor and Bran and our pack found us. The only reason I survived was because I-"

"-nearly drained the pack bonds and the packs closest to us to the dregs," Bran finished from his perch on the counter facing the sitting room, "-we all noticed, and we all figured that something was seriously wrong this time."

I ignored the brief flash of hurt and the slight frown Samuel shot towards his father. I only hoped that, since Bran had closed his side of the mating bond, he didn't pick up on what I was feeling at what he just said.

After I had woken up cuddled into Bran yesterday morning, he made the mistake of tightening his hold. With a panicked yelp, my wolf rose to the forefront and I leaped off the bed and through the glass doors, landing on the balcony half-crouched, shards of glass around me and on my pajamas, making me look like a scared blue porcupine. I didn't go into a fit this time, but that incident seemed to further distance Bran and I, which was a relief. I didn't want any wolf-save Marie, at the moment-in any sort of close physical proximity for a while to come. The rest of yesterday was exceedingly awkward and both of us by unspoken assent moved back to our separate bedrooms.

I knew, because of Bran's Beast, that I needed to help him reconnect and calm his wolf, but I-I couldn't bear any sort of personal touch. It didn't make much sense, considering I wasn't physically raped, but my captors had done something to me on the inside. I still wasn't recovered. I couldn't figure out last night. Probably because I was too exhausted to notice Bran's Change back to human to care.

"Well," I said sarcastically as I tied my shoes and headed for my parka on the far wall by the back door, "At least you knew I wasn't dead."

"Who says that you're going anywhere, Leah Cornick? I gave orders that you're supposed to be convalescing for at least another we-" Samuel's voice faltered as I turned around.

My eyes were light green and face slightly lupine as I drew from Bran's dominance. I knew that Samuel and Bran had their fights and Samuel had withdrawn from his father's pack, but centuries of staying under his thumb still pressured him and I caught him off guard, which were the only reasons I was able to slide under his commands, "In this, Samuel Cornick, Marrokson," I said quietly, "You cannot deny me."

And with that I stepped outside towards the car (a Nissan GT-R, which I found slightly ridiculous; why the hell would Bran need a sport car in Colorado, for God's sake?), another werewolf not two steps behind me. I noticed with a slight ache that Bran didn't follow after me. Which was stupid, considering how I didn't want people near me anyway.

Moving on.

I didn't say a word until I got into the passenger's seat and my driver steered down the road.

"What do you want?" I asked harshly as we moved down the street, "If it's another lecture I've already had it. Did your wife complain about me or something?"

"Yes," Charles said quietly, "But that is not why I'm here."

Charles and I held a "Who-can-be-quiet-the-longest" contest until something occurred to me, "Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to still be in Chicago?"

"Most of that is taken care of," Charles turned his eyes towards me and I lowered mine out of reflex, "And the rest can be dealt with by my associates."

I grumbled and my wolf settled a little, surprisingly enough, "Well, that was fast. I think your wife's rubbing off on you. While you still scare me shitless by sounding like the Godfather, your presence is strangely soothing and I remember it not being so before."

I shrank a little in my seat as Charles chuckled, "That is because I'm not about doing my father's work, Leah-"

"So why are you taking me to Asil's?"

"-and I'm more dominant than you are, even bolstering yourself with my da's power, so therefore you are going to feel safe with me, as a part of the pack," I winced at the too-obvious answer and he continued on, ignoring my expression, "And as to why I'm taking you to Asil's. . .Anna and I are on more amiable terms with him than Samuel and Asil, or Asil and my father."

"Because your wife's an Omega," it wasn't a question, "So you all are just buddying around then?"

Wait.

Charles was waiting for me outside of the house. Of course, I knew he was there; I heard him as soon as he set foot in the snow. Why would he be outside of my house instead of coming inside to restrain me? Samuel had talked with me yesterday as he examined my rapidly-healing cuts from the glass, remarking how my presence would help Marie heal. Bran just stayed as far away from me as possible.

"You were going to take me anyway. You guys were just waiting to see how much I'd fight for seeing her, weren't you?" I was at first flabbergasted, then, seeing Charles' profile next to me, his mouth twitching slightly, sighed and leaned back on the headrest, arm covering my eyes, "Damn, I feel stupid."

"We all do at least one point in our lives."

I pointed an accusing finger, "Sarcasm is not appreciated, Charles Cornick."

"Well," Charles said in a too-reasonable voice, "I could just agree and say that instead of feeling stupid, you actually are. Or give off an astonishingly good impression of being so."

"Gee, thanks," I said dryly as we pulled up to the Moor's house, "Fine. Well, in that case, feel free to be sarcastic."

I paused as I began to get out of the car, "Are you coming in with me or-?" I left the question hanging.

In response, Charles walked around the other side of the car, shut the door for me, and went up the steps in front of me to Asil's front door. Shrugging, I followed him through the now-open doorway, nodding to the Moor as we passed, "Hello, Asil."

"Hello, Leah. How are you?"

I shrugged again and moved past Charles and Asil to the Moor's living room, replying, "As well as can be expecte-what's all this?"

What I was looking at was at least six different stacks of clothes on Asil's couches.

Six stacks on each couch, anyway. The lingerie (after shutting my jaw in surprise) was discreetly in two plastic grocery bags; underwear, and bras, respectively. I leaned against the wall, not wanting to get anywhere near the piles; I was scared they'd fall down if I even so much as walked past them.

"Some of the girls from the pack decided to bring some clothes and female stuff over for our new wolf, but I figured she'd be more com-"

"-comfortable in your clothes, yes, Asil, I do agree. Marie's now in the shower and will probably take some time."

I flattened myself against the wall, then recognized Bran at the end of the steps leading upstairs. He was standing quietly as though not to startle a frightened animal. Which, I noticed with chagrin as Asil and Charles looked on, was me. With effort, I pushed off the wall and asked my mate (mine) eyes down, "Did you pick any bras or underwear for her?"

Bran looked slightly puzzled and I huffed quietly, "Males. You'd think being the oldest werewolf in the world would do something for one's aversion to anything female and sexy. God. It's like 'ew, cooties!' all over again."

Asil coughed and I could see Charles' mouth move in a very small smile, "Leah, my da was probably not wanting to guess wrong on Marie's. . .figure. It could be insulting."

I opened my mouth to retort, thought of the incredibly long discussion that would entail how female wolves knew other wolves chest sizes when they were in their wolf form, then decided to shut my mouth again and sort through the bras first. I opened the bag and pawed through, looking for something. . .simple. Marie struck me as practical, and she probably wanted something the least revealing as possible. Until she healed anyway. Same with underwear. With a sniff, I put the lacy stuff on one side, grabbed a bra and pair of underwear, and threw them at my husband.

I trained over whatever-it-was he was about to say, "Give this to her and say you almost forgot and that I picked them. Or something. I'll be there in a few minutes."

_**Marie's POV** _

_"Marie, could you open the door? Bran said you got in the shower and you might be a while. I can hear you moving around, though. Let me in."_

_It was Leah._

With a muffled yelp of joy, I flung open the door and felt myself rock back a little with the force of Leah's hug.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Marie's POV** _

_"Marie, could you open the door? Bran said you got in the shower and you might be a while. I can hear you moving around, though. Let me in."_

_It was Leah._

With a muffled yelp of joy, I flung open the door and felt myself rock back with the force of Leah's hug. She then made me stand back a little, arms clasped to mine, and looked me over. I ducked my head under the force of her inspection.

"You look like shit."

Startled, my eyes met hers and she grinned.

"You say the sweetest things." I said drily.

Leah pulled me in close again and buried her nose in my neck. I did the same and, after inhaling her scent, felt fully relaxed and safe for the first time since I was captured.

"How are you?" Closing the door (which was pointless because the wolves downstairs could hear, but I appreciated the gesture) Leah pointed toward the bed and I immediately sat down. Opposite Asil's bed was a dresser with a mirror on it, so I could see myself sitting cross-legged. I looked at myself again-I was healing, but slowly.

I could hear shuffling sounds and drawers being opened and closed in the bathroom and Leah reemerged with a comb. She grabbed a t-shirt from the dresser and moved to sit behind me.

I answered her as she began to comb out my hair. "Not bad, surprisingly. Sore."

"Not feeling like having a breakdown?"

I raised an eyebrow and Leah chuckled. "Just asking."

"I mean, it sucks. But I did most of my processing shit while we were captured. Mostly I'm angry. Plus, you know, meeting the Marrok and the Moor spontaneously pretty much cured whatever fears I had that they would come back and get me."

"Bran can be a little intimidating." Leah mused as she ran the comb through my hair. With the t-shirt, she managed to catch the extra water that moved down my hair in between me drying off and getting dressed. "Asil is-well, Asil. Wait until you meet Charles and Samuel. Samuel will want to have a look at you. He's a physician. I believe he did while you were a wolf, but it's easier for him to find out if there are other problems when you're human."

I tensed a little. "Will you be there?"

The Marrok's wife nodded at my reflection in the mirror. "If you want me to be."

I relaxed. "Thank you."

"If it makes you feel better, both Charles and Samuel are Bran's sons. Which makes them my stepchildren, I suppose, but I find that kind of relationship rather alarming, considering Charles is only a handful of years younger than me. Samuel has me beat by several centuries, though."

I blinked at Leah's reflection. "That seems-uh-complicated."

Leah sighed. "You have no idea. It gets even worse from there. We don't really like each other much. It's a fairly long story."

I nodded before she began to braid my hair. It wasn't anywhere near as long as hers, but getting it out of the way was nice. "So what's next?"

Leah paused and she tilted her head at me. "Well, do you want to go back to Chicago? I mean, personally, I wouldn't recommend it; it wouldn't be smart because you'll probably get picked up by the Mob again. Is your family there?"

I shook my head. "I didn't have much; the pack I was with lost me in a bet and my family is a couple towns away from Chicago."

"So I take it that's a no?"

"Pretty much."

Leah hmmmed thoughtfully as she finished off my braid and used an elastic to hold it in place. She threw the t-shirt in the hamper and came back to sit on the bed, back against the head board. I scooted backward and laid my head on her lap as she began stroking her fingers down my neck and back. My wolf had become nervous again but was soothed at Leah's touch.

It was silent for the next several minutes and I could hear the wolves moving about downstairs. Bran was there as well as Asil, but there was a voice that seemed vaguely familiar. I was getting sleepy but couldn't settle down with an unknown entity in the house.

"That would be Charles. Would you like to go down and meet him?"

I yawned and Leah chuckled. "Guess that answers that question, then. You ought to go back to sleep, since this was the first time you woke up. I'll wake you again in a couple hours again to eat, how does that sound?"

"Kay."

I drifted off as Leah hummed some nameless tune while she stroked my hair.

_**Leah's POV** _

After making sure Marie was deeply asleep, I moved my legs from under her head and headed for the door. I left it cracked open as I stepped into the hallway and moved down the stairs. After seeing to Marie, I felt more-settled, I guess would be the word. Knowing that Marie was protected helped a lot in me being able to relax a little. Although I was intimidated by the Moor, I knew whoever Bran put in his care would be safe and any threat utterly eliminated.

I moved down the stairs and saw Charles staring blankly at the heaps of clothing on Asil's available chairs and couches.

"They're clothes, Charles. For people. Specifically females. Must I go through every stack explaining the differences between a bra and a tank top?"

He raised an eyebrow at me as I continued into the room. I set my hands on my hips and pursed my lips as I surveyed each pile. Sighing, I began to pick through the garments for things I thought Marie was likely to wear. Of course, she'd choose her own things once she was conscious, but I also knew that she'd be more limiting than I would. Marie still had some pride and was more likely to take what was thrown at her than choose something she wanted out of things that weren't hers.

Charles moved across the room, his back against the wall, facing the front door. I hadn't even realized I was tense until he made it clear he was guarding the main entrance to the house and I felt my back muscles relax.

I frowned slightly at Charles. "Your mate really is rubbing off on you."

"You know it's from the mate bond. Or perhaps you don't. Considering-"

"Yes, Charles. Considering mine and your father's relationship. Speaking of Bran, where-"

"-In the greenhouse. With Asil." He continued studying me and I dropped my gaze to the pair of pants I was holding. They were appallingly bright gold with little flecks of bronze all over them. With a wince, I dropped them back in the bag they originated from as 'rejects'.

I managed to get through a single stack before he spoke again. "You seem-better."

I shrugged. "It was good seeing her."

"She is to be part of the pack, then." It wasn't a question.

"You heard us talking."

"Common courtesy, Leah, which you seem to be lacking today." I rolled my eyes.

"I could care less."

"Sometimes," Charles said softly, "I think it's the opposite."

I gave him one of my most sarcastic 'bitch, please' faces. "Do not tell me you're using your Native American witchcraft on me to try to psychoanalyze me in a Freudian manner. It won't work."

He blinked.

"I'm serious," I huffed as I continue to work, "Trying to figure out people's thoughts and actual intentions is rude, Charles Cornick."

"We're wolves. It's not rude. Many times-as you would know, Leah, from what happened recently-it's for survival."

That stung.

"Well, excuse me for trusting the packs in Chicago. Excuse me for trusting the fact that since I'm the Marrok's mate, anyone who tries to hurt me is suicidal. Excuse me for trusting the wolves that _you yourself_ the first few times I had gone had confirmed were safe and reliable. So maybe, instead of accusing me of being off my game-which I wasn't, by the way-you could look to yourself and your failings first! I had called the pack _and_ Bran but apparently people were so busy dealing with the aftermath of this Mariposa chick that everyone forgot I existed!"

I wasn't yelling, considering that Marie was upstairs, but I wasn't happy. At all. I felt spikes of pain radiating from my hands and looked to see them clenching the blouse I was holding very tightly. I dropped the shirt and flexed my hands. Owch.

Charles looked confused and not too pleased himself, "You weren't aware that Bran blocked the pack bonds? All of them?"

I snorted. "Bran usually keeps the bond between us locked down. And no, the pack bonds weren't blocked off. I was able to reach everyone just fine. No one responded."

"You're lying."

I shook my head. "I'm not. I'm always able to reach the pack bonds. Anywhere, anytime. How do you think you guys were alerted that something was wrong before I was drugged and taken?"

Charles opened his mouth, then shut it. He considered. I crossed my arms and waited for him to follow his train of thought to the resulting conclusion.

"Bran had closed all the pack bonds. Every single one," He said slowly, "We all felt later an extreme surge of panic and anger but we thought it was a last wave after the bonds were locked. Then we received a call from one of the wolves in Chicago a few days after. That was you?"

I threw my hands up in the air. "Bran is the one that can send you coherent thoughts. I can only project my feelings through the bonds when it's an exceptionally strong emotion, like the rest of the pack. I thought you knew this. You're the Native American witch."

"Yes, but we've never actually had any sort of in-depth conversation before." Charles said dryly as I started to look through clothes again.

"I wouldn't call this in-depth. More like me having even more reasons to yell at you."

"Leah, this puts you out of the other wolves' depth if you can do this when the pack bonds are shut down. How strong is this-projection skill of yours?"

I shrugged. "Strong enough."

Charles opened his mouth and I interrupted, "Don't start. I'm already trained. Not that there is much to train, but I can control what I do have. So don't think that I'm going to make the wolves jump into rivers or something from extreme depression when I'm feeling sad."

He closed his mouth again and I continued to work. It was some time before he spoke again. I had just sat down on the couch because my back and legs were sore from standing bent over when he apologized.

"You're right."

I jumped. "No, this is always what happens when-wait, what?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. But at the same time, Leah-we did have a black witch here in our territory. So it isn't our fault we didn't realize it was you. But you were right about the other things with the packs and the wolves. We got complacent." He got a concerned look on his face as I continued blinking at him.

"Leah?"

"Sorry, I'm still back at you actually admitting for a change that I was right."

Charles sighed and shook his head. "I don't know why I bother."

"You're the Marrok's son. There isn't much more of a reason than that."

"Thank...you?"

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. "Whatever. It wasn't a compliment."

_**Charles POV** _

Leah was different.

When I had spoken to Samuel and learned his evaluation of her physical state as well as what seemed to be the change in her behavior, I was skeptical. But after seeing how gingerly she moved and her automatic cowering away from Bran-her mate, of all people-I had begun to take Samuel's ideas more seriously.

I grabbed a pillow from one of the other chairs and placed it so it just brushed one of Leah's hands. With a muttered thanks, she took it and propped it behind her upper back and neck before shutting her eyes again. I moved next to one of the windows that looked out to the greenhouse and began to think.

Learning that Leah had a psychic gift was interesting, for all that she said it was minor and under control. No matter what she thought, her gift wasn't minor if she was able to reach the pack four states away. Even in a panic, it wouldn't have been possible for a normal wolf. But her saying she was kidnapped right after Mariposa was dead was concerning. The events were too closely-linked together.

Something was very, very wrong here.

I hadn't found out much about this Nameless organization, only that they were hard to track and went under aliases. However, I had my contacts digging for information and called in a favor from Adam Hauptman, so I hoped to hear something soon. If not, I'd have to go through Da's less-traditional contacts. I didn't mind the fae; but they always expect a price of some kind, so Da's people among the reservations were a last resort.

So far, I only had a couple of ideas. The most plausible was that the Beast in Europe was behind the attacks, considering he was one of the Marrok's most vocal enemies, but it seemed too clever, too subtle, for him.

The other possibility, which I liked even less, was that someone from before I was born-during the time when Bran was still the Beast and not the Marrok, either before or after he was enslaved-was alive. And wanted Bran to unleash what he was before he killed the witch who had ensorcelled him and threatened Samuel.

I was fairly certain that whoever it was didn't want Bran dead. First, it would have been considerably difficult, considering how old he was and what magic he knew and the fae he kept in contact with. It was far more likely that whoever it was had tried to shatter his control with one blow after another. Mariposa had nearly done it and the kidnapping of Leah and her subsequent torture/death would have pushed him over the edge if Mariposa hadn't succeeded. But they hadn't counted on a three things.

1\. That my mate was an Omega.

2\. That I was a shaman.

3\. That Leah and Bran were not the tightly-bonded Alpha pair that they should have been.

I already eliminated the Nameless members in Chicago. I needed to find out who the rest were, and their leader, fast, before they tried something again. Which meant talking to Leah and getting her to recount everything that happened.

I sighed inwardly. I was not looking forward to that conversation.


End file.
